


country honey

by eat_crow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Americana, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Canon, Reincarnation, Road Trips, Somehow, and it turns out to be his millennia dead soulmate reincarnated into a sweet country boy, bc I said so!, merlin picks up a hitchhiker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eat_crow/pseuds/eat_crow
Summary: After a millennia of waiting, Merlin finally finds Arthur once again.Only, he's not exactly what Merlin expects.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 285
Kudos: 461





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> listen man, idk either. i got this idea in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> title from [this track](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_p2BMF491bY)

_Take me down to the country, honey,  
Take me down to the country, honey,  
In a jeep that's sweet,  
In a jeep that's neat,  
Take me down to the country, honey. _

Merlin once thought that he wouldn’t be caught dead in Texas.

Then he realized that, well, Merlin isn’t ever going to be caught dead _anywhere_. So why not?

In its own bizarre way, the country reminds him of home. Every person he comes across smiles and strikes up small talk, everyone is eager to help, and everyone is, for the most part, kind. It’s made his road trip across the southern states more pleasant than he expected. 

He’s driving down an old, barren highway, nothing but grassland for miles. Every few hours he passes a cluster of driveways that all have signs claiming _Whatever Ranch_ or _Ranch So-and-So_ out by the road, with a few restaurants, gas stations, and general stores not too much farther down. 

One property boasts a massive steer carved out of a flat sheet of metal. Punched out in the cow’s belly are the words _Pendragon Ranch_.

Merlin almost veers into a ditch.

He taps the brakes on his ‘97 Toyota Avalon, which he bought mainly for the joke, so he can read the sign a second, third, and fourth time.

He tells himself it’s a coincidence, even though _Pendragon_ is a surname long lost to obscurity. He turns up the music on his radio and keeps driving.

Only thirty minutes later he comes up on a dark speck on the side of the road. When he’s close enough, he can make out a man walking with his back to Merlin. There’s a backpack slung over one shoulder and a duffel on his other. He’s got a baseball cap on, and Merlin can’t see his face for the shadows.

He’s got his thumb stuck out.

Maybe it’s the southern hospitality he’s been exposed to taking over. Maybe it’s the loneliness from driving for a whole day without seeing a friendly face. Maybe it’s neither of those things.

Merlin slows and pulls over. The man jogs to reach his car. Merlin rolls down his window and the man ducks down and gives him a bright white smile.

His eyes are blue and playful when they look Merlin up and down, his jaw sharp and square, his cheekbones pronounced. His blond hair is stuck to his tanned forehead and the back of his neck. Over a millennia and Merlin could still recognize that face in his sleep.

“Howdy, stranger,” he says. He adjusts his cap over his head - a once brilliant red thing that’s faded into an ashy almost-pink. There’s a golden dragon embroidered onto it. Sweat darkens the fabric where the brim meets the cap.

“Howdy,” Merlin parrots, his throat very dry. He flexes his fingers over his steering wheel. “Where are you headed?” The man shrugs and looks off in the direction Merlin was driving.

“West a ways, I think,” he says.

“Me too.” He doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t know what _to_ say. He didn’t prepare for this. Arthur was supposed to rise from the lake of Avalon. He was supposed to come out of the water in all his obnoxious glory and dramatism. He would say something annoying, and Merlin would reply with something even more annoying. They were supposed to look into each other’s eyes and finally close the microscopic distance left between them and share the kiss that Merlin was too guilty to give when Arthur was pulling him down for it on his deathbed.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Arthur was supposed to _remember_. It wasn’t fair.

The man watches him expectantly. His smile widens when Merlin continues with his silence.

“Would it put you out to ask for a ride?” He asks. Without saying a word, Merlin unlocks the passenger side door. The man lights up and opens the door. He throws his bags onto the floorboard and sits down. He smells of dirt and sweat, and Merlin can feel the heat off his sunbaked skin from the driver’s seat. “Thank you kindly, sir.” He holds out his hand for Merlin to take. “I’m Arthur.”

“Merlin,” he says, and shakes Arthur’s hand.

“Like the wizard?” Arthur's laugh makes him homesick.

“Yeah,” Merlin says, his eyes stinging, “like the wizard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! i actually had a lot of fun writing it, lmfao.
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) !


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll figure out how to post shit eventually, damn. 
> 
> i actually had this written before i even posted the first chapter, but i planned to just trash it if nobody was interested in the 1st chap. so if you commented on chapter one... you're the reason this exists, lmao! (especially big thanks to alohacowboy for the enthusiasm 😊)

“You got a right funny accent,” Arthur tells him, when they’re a few miles down. Merlin snorts. He could say the same thing. “Where're you from?”

“Wales,” he says.

“No kidding?” He asks. Merlin hums and nods. “That’s neat. My granddad’s from Wales.”

“How on Earth did you get to Texas, then?” He can’t help but ask. A part of him wonders if it's because _Merlin_ is in the states. But he always assumed that if ever Arthur was going to come back, Merlin would feel a pull that guided him back home, back to Camelot and Avalon.

Arthur lifts his cap to ruffle his own hair.

“Cattle farming, mostly. It’s good business here. He came down, had my dad, my dad had me. We got a ranch a few miles back, you probably seen it. Pendragon Ranch.”

“I _saw_ it, yeah,” Merlin says, and Arthur laughs. “Why were you out on the road?” Arthur shrugs and slumps a little in his seat. He pokes his thumb through a hole in the hem of his shirt. 

“I dunno.” He clears his throat. "Just felt… real important that I did."

“Weird,” Merlin breathes.

“No weirder than a welsh fella in the country. You got lost going to Dallas, or something?” He unzips the duffle between his feet and retrieves a water bottle. He offers it to Merlin, who raises his hand in a _thanks, but no thanks_ gesture, before he twists the cap off and takes a drink.

“I’ve been in America for the past…” He counts the years in his head. It was sometime after the Vietnam war but before the Berlin Wall came down when he landed in New York City. Or was it during Vietnam? He remembers the hippie culture of the time, the marches and flowers and music, but he doesn't remember if he was a part of it. “The past few years, at least. I’ve stuck mostly to the east coast. I wanted to change things up. See the Pacific.”

“Shit, you musta been all over,” he says. “I never even left this damn state.”

“I’ve been driving all day, I don’t think it’s _possible_ to leave this damn state.”

“Might not,” Arthur says, and caps his water bottle again. He looks out the window and watches the endless nothing pass them by. “I’d like to see the ocean sometime, I think, but I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of water.”

Merlin rubs his thumb over the steering wheel. The last time he took a trip to a major body of water with Arthur by his side it didn’t end so well. He wonders if this is the gods playing a joke of some kind.

“You can come with me, if you want,” he says, “to see a bunch of water.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he says it, worried that he won’t like the look on Arthur’s face. There’s a long pause.

"I don't hardly know you," he says. Merlin glances up at the rearview, even though there are no other cars on the road and haven't been for hours.

"It's not a demand, just an offer," he says, casual as you please. There's a crinkle as Arthur squeezes the bottle in his hands.

"You know if you try some weird skin suit bullshit I'll beat your ass," he says finally. It's firm but there's a lightness to it underneath, teasing almost. Merlin can't stop the smile that rises deep in his cheeks. 

"Noted," he says. He rests his elbow on the center console and points his thumb behind them. "Hey, completely unrelated, there's some lotion in the backseat, you wouldn't mind putting it on for me, would you?"

Arthur bursts into a fit of laughter, bubbling and light. He watches Merlin incredulously, like he's impressed and perplexed at the same time. 

For a moment, Merlin convinces himself there's a twinkle of familiarity in those blue eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it came.

Arthur turns his head to watch the long expanse of road before them. He fiddles with a silver ring on his left index finger.

"Alright, then. Next stop, the ocean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! i actually had a lot of fun writing it, lmfao.
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) !


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it says that this is gonna be 10 chapters, but that's really just a ball park. i got 5 out of the (probably) 10 written, and it just seems like that's a good length to aim for considering how i'm pacing this. it may end up being less.
> 
> as always thank you for reading and commenting! it warms my gay heart

Merlin leans on the back fender of his car while the pump fills up his tank with gas. He watches the ticker count up the gallons put into his car. It's aged, as most things out here are, stuck in the 70s when this part of the country had its last economic high point. Merlin would call it old, but in his perspective it's been a blink of an eye since the invention of the car itself, let alone the boxy gas pump that's rusting right in front of him. 

Arthur is inside the station in the middle of a lively conversation with the man at the counter. He insisted on paying for this round of snacks and gas. Merlin tried to refuse, because surely someone who didn't have a car and had to walk for at least thirty miles couldn't have much money to spare. Arthur settled it by saying that Merlin could handle the next round.

Arthur pushes open the front door with the jingling of the bell overhead. He's still trying to escape the conversation as he walks away from it, and he's stuck holding the door open as the man talks to him. He's struggling to put something into his backpack with one hand. "You too, sir… thank you, sir… yeah, well I-- alright now, thank you, you have a good day now… yessir, thank you." He smiles one last time and waves as he finally makes his way over to Merlin. He zips his backpack closed. He takes a bag of sour patch kids from his spoils and tosses the grocery bag of his other snacks onto the passenger seat. He tears open the bag and picks out a red one.

"What were you talking about?" Merlin asks. Arthur glances to the window of the shop and nods and smiles, then sniffs and leans against the back fender next to Merlin so his back is to it.

"I don't fuckin' know," he says, the niceties gone from his voice and replaced with a deep annoyance. Merlin wheezes a laugh. "He had a whole lot of nothing to say, I didn't wanna be rude."  _ That _ was certainly a welcome change. Arthur had no qualms about being an ass before - though maybe just where Merlin was involved. He offers up the bag to Merlin, who takes a few at random. They're gummy and near expired.

The handle clicks, and Merlin gives it a couple squeezes for good measure before he hangs it back on the side of the pump. He screws his gas cap on and snaps the fuel door closed. Arthur gets into the car, and Merlin walks around the trunk to get to the driver's side. Merlin casts a wave in the direction of the cashier and there's movement inside that suggests the man waved back.

They argue over the radio for a moment, caught between a country channel and a gospel channel - because the only other working channel is all in spanish, and it's a language Merlin neglected to learn and Arthur's rocky with. Arthur knows all the words to the old country songs, but Merlin thinks gospel singers have better voices. Arthur teases him for not having any CDs, so the gospel channel it is. Whenever Arthur tries to change it Merlin clears his throat and the channel mysteriously goes back to where it started.

As they ride on, there's an odd pattern that emerges.

Every time they come across a general store or gas station, Arthur insists they stop - for snacks or to use the restroom or whatever reason. He brings his bag inside with him every time. When Merlin joins him, he lags behind and leaves last. No matter what, he's stuffing something into his backpack as he walks out.

"What's up with the bag?" He asks. Arthur crosses his legs at the ankle and turns his head to look at Merlin instead of the clouds outside.

"Beg your pardon?"

"The bag. What's in it?" The seat creaks as Arthur stiffens.

"Nothing." Merlin stays silent. Arthur has always been terrible about occupying an uncomfortable silence, and though he's guilty about using his knowledge about him to his benefit he doesn't care for Arthur hiding things. "Ain't nothing in it worth knowing about, man. I promise."

Merlin presses his lips together, but keeps his eyes on the road.

"Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! i actually had a lot of fun writing it, lmfao.
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) !


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for all your support so far! chapters are gonna be updated everyday at about this same time, so. yeehaw

They stop at a motel for the night. They share a room and split the cost, since sharing a double is cheaper than two singles. They throw their bags on the two beds. Merlin kicks off his shoes and sits on top of the tacky yellow sheets with his legs dangling off the sides. The walls smell of lemon disinfectant and cigarette smoke and the brown carpet is hard under his feet. He's slept in far worse.

"I'm gonna take a shower, I smell like ass," Arthur says as he sniffs the collar of his shirt. He unzips his duffel and takes out a change of clothes.

"Yeah, I know," Merlin says. Arthur shoves his head as he passes. 

He leaves his backpack on the bed.

The bathroom door shuts and the water comes on. Merlin stares at the bag.

He knows he shouldn't look through other people's things. But that hasn't ever stopped him before. And… it's  _ Arthur _ . There were no secrets with Arthur, nothing hidden, not ever. He isn't going to start now.

He takes a deep breath, looks to the bathroom door, and pounces.

He keeps one ear open for the sound of running water and unzips the backpack. There's a few worse for wear paperbacks inside. He doesn't parse through them all, but the first in the stack is  _ Hamlet _ . There's curly writing in sharpie on the top of the cover that says _De Bois_. Shoved in beside them is a big lump wrapped up in a flannel shirt. Merlin pulls on the flannel to reveal what's underneath.

It's bundles of cash. Tons of it. An obscene amount, almost. There has to be thousands of dollars inside. Some are big bills like hundreds and fifties and some no larger than five or ten.

The bathroom door bursts open as Arthur leans out with his hair wet. The water is still running. Merlin freezes.

"You think I could borrow some soa-- what the  _ fuck are you doing!? _ " Merlin throws the bag away from himself and back onto the bed as Arthur disappears for only a moment and then storms out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I didn't take anything, I wouldn't," he says, his hands raised. He scrambles up and over the bed as Arthur advances on him. Merlin's gaze travels on its own down his chest and to where his towel rests on his hips. It used to be that Arthur's lack of modesty couldn't phase him if he tried. Countless lifetimes served as more than enough to break his tolerance. Merlin averts his eyes. If ever there was a time, it isn't now.

"What the fuck is your problem, huh!?" He asks, and his accent somehow gets even thicker when he's upset. "I dunno what the hell it's like in  _ Wales _ , or wherever the fuck you're out here from, but down here we mind our damn business!" Merlin makes a wide gesture to the bag.

"I'm allowed to be fucking suspicious when a guy I picked up from the side of the road is acting shady!"

"It ain't  _ shady _ to keep private! I ain't hurtin' nobody!"

"How do I know that!? Where's all that cash from, Arthur?"

"What, you think I'm robbing people?" He asks. Merlin's mouth forms around the words, but Arthur cuts him off before he can say them. "You think I been having pleasant conversations with people while I rob 'em blind? Do you know how crime works?"

"Well then what? What is it?"

"What'd I  _ just _ say about minding your damn business!? It don't concern you!"

"Well if it  _ don't _ concern me," he spits, "then you can fuck off and find someone else to ride with, because I'm not going to be driving around a  _ maybe _ criminal!"

"Fine! Good riddance!" He grabs his backpack and his duffel and walks to the bathroom in three long strides. He slams the door closed, turns off the water, and comes back out fully clothed. "Fuck you!" He says as a final goodbye, before he leaves the motel room entirely.

Merlin bristles for as long as it takes him to realize that he just let the once and future king run off in the middle of the night. He drops onto the bed and holds his head in his hands. This was supposed to be  _ easy _ . Why couldn't things ever be easy? 

He allows himself the time to wipe a few frustrated tears from his eyes and draw himself back to normal.

He locks the motel door behind him and gets into his car. Automobiles weren't invented for him to have to walk everywhere.

He drives until he sees Arthur, and then he rolls down his window and slows.

"I'm sorry for going through your shit," he says. Arthur doesn't respond, just marches onward. "It's dark out, you shouldn't be walking."

"I do what I like." A pause, then, "You sure seem to."

"Arthur--" Merlin clicks his tongue and huffs. "I'm sorry, alright? It won't happen again."

"It sure won't."

"I'm serious. I don't want you walking out here alone." Arthur continues to walk. He doesn't look over at Merlin. "I can do this all night, buddy."

"I'm not your  _ buddy _ ," Arthur snaps, and Merlin recoils. "I don't know you, and you don't know me. You ain't got a right to my life or the shit I do." Merlin gawks at him, barely glancing at the road enough to keep straight. He lets out a deep breath and clenches his fist.

"You're right," he says. No matter how badly he wants it to be so, this isn't Arthur. Not  _ his _ Arthur. The cruelty of waiting so long for a man who doesn't even know him is like a corkscrew into his heart, twisting and twisting, but denying it is somehow worse. It would do him well to get over that hurdle and admit it now. "I was out of line. I really am sorry. Just… you already paid for the room. Don't spend the night out here alone."

Arthur stops, and so does Merlin.

"You gotta promise you ain't gonna go looking through my shit again," he says. Merlin puts the car in park and shifts in his seat so he can stick his hand out of the window. The center console digs into his side. He extends his pinky finger.

"I promise." 

Arthur looks at him like Merlin is the dumbest person he's ever met. Some things never change.

He rolls his eyes and hooks their pinkies together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! i actually had a lot of fun writing it, lmfao.
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) !


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is now officially finished, & would you look at that - it was 10 chapters! now all that's left is to post it all, which i somehow harder than writing the fic itself. protip, if you ever, uh, see this fic having a grand mal seizure, that's me trying in vain to do something minor like edit a fucking end note. what the fuck.

Merlin wakes that morning on his stomach, one arm under his scratchy and flat pillow and the other splayed out across the mattress. He takes in a deep breath and holds the pillow closer to himself as he stretches.

He rubs his eyes and pushes himself up to a sitting position with much difficulty. He looks to the other side of the room.

Arthur's bed is empty.

Merlin's car keys are gone.

Merlin jolts out of bed and rushes across the room in that lagging panicked-but-half-asleep stagger. He peers through the blinds and, just as he expected, his car is missing.

He lets out a stream of curses that could make mother Teresa weep and bolts out the front door in his socks. His lip curls as he steps on a cigarette butt.

Then, his car swings into the parking lot, the tires squealing from how fast it was turned off from the highway. It pulls up into the spot right in front of Merlin, and the surprise must be obvious on his face because Arthur is dangerously smug as he turns off the ignition and gets out of the car. He has two soft drinks balanced in his hand and a McDonald's bag in his arm, the bottom spotted with grease. He tosses the keys up in the air when he passes and Merlin catches them.

"Have fun on your joyride?" Merlin asks, annoyance heavy in his voice.

"It doesn't feel good to have your things taken without permission, does it?" Arthur asks back, and Merlin scoffs. He puts the drinks and the bag on the nightstand, the only table they have in the room, and looks through it. "I didn't know if you were one of those fellas that don't eat beef 'cause of your religion or whatever, so I got you chicken."

"That's… considerate," he says suspiciously.

"I'm a considerate guy," Arthur says without looking up. He sets a chicken sandwich on Merlin's side of the table and a burger on his side, and fries for both of them. He upends the bag and a few ketchup packets and napkins fall out. He gestures for Merlin to sit down, and he does.

"Thank you," he says as he unwraps his sandwich. Arthur shrugs as he does the same.

"Don't worry about it," he says, "we're not getting far on empty stomachs anyways." Merlin pauses before he eats a fry. He quirks an eyebrow.

"We?" Arthur idly picks sesame seeds off the top of his bun. He doesn't meet Merlin's eyes.

"It was wrong of me to shout at you," he says. "You had every right to be concerned, I was being shady." Merlin gives a satisfied little hum. It isn't a _sorry_ , but it's close enough to satisfy.

"Does this mean you're going to tell me why you're building a bank in your bag?"

Arthur sucks his teeth. He sets his burger back down on the table and rubs his hands on his jeans. He says, "I got plenty of money. I ain't hurting by any means. But… I work for my dad, so he controls my funds. And, well," he adjusts his cap atop his head, "I didn't leave home on the best of terms with him."

"You think he'd freeze your account to bring you back?" Sounds pretty in line for one Uther Pendragon.

"Nothing he ain't done before," he confirms. "I was only even walking 'cause my car was bought with 'his money'," he curls his fingers in air quotes, "even though it was money he _paid_ me for working his damn ranch. I got a bit of savings, but not enough. When he shuts my account down I'm shit outta luck." He tears the edge of his burger wrapper. "I'm just trying to be as liquid as possible before that happens. I tell them cashiers to overcharge my card and give me back the cash. That's all."

"You could have said that from the beginning," Merlin says.

"Yeah, tell somebody I don't know I got buckets of cash on me, _that's_ clever," he deadpans, and Merlin's face darkens with annoyance. "Besides," he clears his throat, "like I said, it don't concern you. It's between me and my old man."

"Alright. I'll take it." He finally takes a bite from the fry he's been holding for the entire conversation. Arthur does the same. Merlin knocks on the nightstand. "One more question, though, and I'll drop it." Arthur makes a _go on_ gesture, more polite than Merlin to speak with his mouth full. " _Hamlet?_ "

"You think I can't like the bard 'cause I ain't from some fancy city?" He asks, the playfulness back in his eyes as he reaches for his coke and takes a sip.

"More… the way you speak," he says, as delicately as he can manage. He doesn’t know how to say that Arthur talks like a cartoon opossum that has a garbage can lid for a hat in a _kind_ way.

" _Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit and lost without deserving,_ ” Arthur quotes, and Merlin groans. Of course he has _Othello_ memorized. Why wouldn’t Arthur be interested in a story about a man tricked into believing his wife was an adulterer by his power hungry counterpart? It's almost too on the nose. “Shakespeare wasn't high literature in its time, _Mer_ lin," he says, "it was meant to be enjoyed by the working class." He takes a pointed bite out of his burger.

Merlin watches him with wonder for a moment, an uncanny valley forming not for the first time at seeing someone so absurdly like Arthur and yet nothing like him at all. Maybe it was meant to be this way. Merlin changed. He had a thousand years to do so. It was only fair that Arthur got the same chance. He tears open a ketchup packet and wonders if this wasn't just the loss of Arthur, but the gaining of someone a little different.

For the first time, he imagines he could love this man too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it! i actually had a lot of fun writing it, lmfao.
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) !
> 
> [the wonderfully talented ehlihr on tumblr drew a scene from this chapter!](https://ehlihr.tumblr.com/post/638494104839438336/this-is-from-a-lovely-fic-called-country-honey-by)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter! the next few are all over 1k though so hey silver lining

"Arthur, wake up," Merlin says, and smacks his passenger in the chest. He slows the car and pulls over onto the sandy side of the road right before he reaches the sign. Arthur grumbles as he lifts the brim of his cap from his eyes. "Look." Merlin points to the sign. It's bright orange and the size of a small billboard, standing up on two round posts.

_Welcome to NEW MEXICO_   
_The Land of Enchantment_

"Hot damn," Arthur says, leaning forward in his seat. Merlin unbuckles his seatbelt. "Why're we stopped?"

"You've never left Texas, right?" He asks. Realization glints in Arthur's eyes as he gives Merlin an unamused look. "C'mon, get out." He opens the door and gets out of the car, Arthur close behind. The air is dry and the sun warms Merlin's hair before they're even halfway there.

"Do you got any idea how corny this is?" He asks, though he doesn't slow as they approach. Merlin stops right before they reach it. Arthur comes to his side. Merlin bumps Arthur's shoulder with his own.

"You first," he says. Arthur gives an exaggerated sigh, but does as he's told and takes one big step across an imaginary border. He turns on his heel and spreads his arms, resting all his weight on one leg, and Merlin grins. Merlin mimes taking a picture, clicking his tongue to imitate a shutter snap. "Huh? How's it feel?"

"Exactly the same," he laughs. He opens his mouth to say more, then sucks in a sharp gasp as if he's been punched and clutches his chest. His eyes go wide and he bends over as he makes a choked little noise.

"Arthur!?" Merlin is at his side in less than a second, his hands on his shoulders and his heart racing as he remembers cold skin and blood and tears and mud.

Then Arthur is _laughing_.

"Naw, I'm just playin'," he says, beaming. He puts his hands on Merlin's forearms, unable to stop laughing for even a moment. "You should see your face, I really got you!"

"Y-- I-- You-- You little _motherfucker!_ " Merlin yells. "You just scared the shit-- I had a heart attack!" He shakes Arthur's shoulders, which only incentivizes more laughter.

"You got a hair trigger, don't you?" Arthur asks. He bites his lower lip to hold in another bout of laughter. Merlin glances down at his stupid grinning mouth. His adrenaline is running wild, he can feel his heart pumping in his fingertips. Arthur still hasn't taken his hands off Merlin's arms. He glances at Merlin's lips, looks back to his eyes, then steals one more glance at his lips like he's unable to help himself. The air crackles with electricity like a thunderstorm is on the horizon, though there isn't a cloud in sight.

A car zips past them, laying on its horn, the passengers inside all yelling, and they both take a large step back. Arthur forces out one last laugh and lifts his cap to run his hand over his hair. Merlin clears his throat.

"Don't do that again," he says. He starts walking back to the car.

"Yessir," Arthur answers, and salutes.

"I mean it," Merlin says through a chuckle. Arthur reaches over and punches him on the arm before they depart to either sides of the vehicle, a good natured smile on his face. Merlin rolls his eyes. "I wish I could hate you," he says to himself over the roof, when Arthur has already gotten in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you thought arthur was gonna remember ahah sike
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil angst, a lil acceptance, a lil hurt comfort. we're getting to the end, lads

"Bad news, big guy," Arthur tells him as he strides across the parking lot, and Merlin swivels his body on the trunk of his car where he's sitting. Merlin lets out a long, sad sigh.

"Let me guess, they were all sold out of the likeable personalities?"

"Yeah, you'll just have to do without," he says back, and Merlin snorts. "Fella back there says there's no motels for the next couple hundred miles." Merlin tilts his head back and groans. He hates sleeping in his car.

"Do we have any options?" He asks. Arthur presents a piece of yellow notebook paper with an address and a phone number scrawled on in pencil. Merlin takes it from him.

"Just one," he says. "It's an RV park. They got a couple RVs they rent out by the night."

"Better than nothing, I guess."

The RV park is less of a backwoods hotel and more of a mobile home area. There are a few residents that look like they've set up shop permanently. Shirtless men with pot bellies sit out under the awnings of their RVs next to coolers and sip beer. A few old women with gardening hats water their little potted plants in the last natural light of the evening.

The only building with a foundation is a bar & restaurant named The Rising Sun. It looks like it used to be a house, but has since been converted. Merlin squints and hums when he sees it. A neon light in a window claims it's open, another boasts that they have  _ Ice Cold Beer! _

"I could use a drink," Arthur says as they pass. Merlin nods his agreement.

And once they've sorted out where they're staying for the night, it's the first place they go.

Arthur aims his dart with razor focus and tosses it. It lands in the green ring just outside of the bullseye with a  _ thunk _ . He sips his beer and turns to give Merlin a proud grin. Merlin scuffs his shoe on the ugly green carpet.

"Yer purdy darn gud," Merlin says, and Arthur scrunches his nose in disgust. Merlin licks the salt off the rim of his margarita, served in a frozen beer mug, and sets it in Arthur's hand.

Merlin tosses his own dart in his hand, letting it flip one end over the other before it lands back in his palm. He makes a show of aligning himself with the board until Arthur boos and heckles him. Merlin makes a face at him. He pretends to aim, hides his eyes behind his hand, throws, and with a little help from his magic it lands dead center. Arthur lets out an incredulous noise.

" _ Shit _ ," he breathes. Merlin chuckles. He's started to become endeared to the way he says it like  _ she-yit _ . Arthur hands his margarita back and Merlin takes a long sip. "How the hell'd you do that?"

"Magic," Merlin answers simply, and Arthur laughs.

"Alright, whatever," he says. "I bet the next round your  _ magic _ can't beat me at pool."

Out of sympathy, Merlin doesn't use his magic to his advantage. He still wins.

He's been playing billiards since it was invented. Of course he does.

They stumble back to their RV together. They mindlessly bicker over who sang  _ I Will Always Love You _ better, Dolly Parton or Whitney Houston. They eventually agree that Whitney's voice was leagues ahead, but Dolly's version had more raw emotion, and it's all in what means more to you. It's at that point they break into a terrible rendition of the song, neither of them achieving the vocal prowess of either woman. 

Arthur leans bodily against the side of the RV as Merlin unlocks the front door. Merlin enters first, flicking on the lightswitch as he goes. The light over their tiny kitchenette flickers on and bathes the room in a warm yellow. He crosses the length of the RV in one step and falls onto the scratchy couch, his long legs extended over both cushions and leaning his back on the arm. His head falls back and he shuts his eyes.

Arthur follows behind and lifts Merlin's legs to sit on the cushion next to him. He rests his head in his hand, his elbow on the arm of the couch. He watches Merlin with half lidded, drunken eyes. He rubs Merlin's shin absentmindedly.

"You wanna hear something crazy?" He asks, his voice so quiet it would be impossible to hear if not for the dead silence surrounding them. Merlin bobs his head up and hums. "Sometimes…" he licks his lips, "I feel like I met you before."

Merlin's heart pulls itself free of his chest. 

"Oh yeah?" He asks. Arthur nods.

"I don't get it. But I know you. I know I do. That's not the crazy part, though." Merlin's eyebrows draw together. "Sometimes it feels like you know me, too." Merlin lets out a shaky breath. He doesn't feel the lump in his throat until he finds swallowing impossible.

"You remind me of someone I knew once. Back home."

_ Home _ . What a silly thing to say. His home is long collapsed, not even a ruin left to show for it. Arthur… his embodiment, his spirit, his  _ soul _ , whatever you want to call it, followed him to the middle of nowhere to be by his side again. If anything is his home, it's Arthur.

"Really?" Arthur asks, and he sounds so genuinely intrigued that Merlin can't stop himself from continuing.

"God, he was the most obnoxious person I've ever met in my fucking  _ life _ ," he says, and Arthur chuckles. "The most arrogant, pompous, dickish, piece of…" He can't help but laugh himself as he trails off. He rubs his forehead and presses his lips together. "But there was this… spark in him. Like light followed him everywhere he went. Everything he did, everything he said, it was…" His chin is trembling, and tears are welling in his eyes. He sucks in a breath and it catches in his throat. He tries a smile and comes up short. "He was my best friend."

"What happened to him?" Arthur asks. Merlin sniffles and clears his throat, desperately trying to hold onto his composure and his sanity. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"He died," he says.

"Oh." The silence returns, heavier than ever. Arthur squeezes Merlin's shin. His warm palm over the fabric of his jeans and the gentle pressure draws him back down to Earth. "Is that why you left?" Merlin crosses his arms over his chest and cobbles his fuzzy thoughts into something coherent. He tilts his head back and stares at the water stained ceiling as he thinks about it.

"No," he answers eventually. "I stuck around for a good… fuckin'... hundred years or something. I still missed him, y'know, I always will. But," he shakes his head and lifts his shoulders, "I wanted to see the world. And I think he'd have put his foot up my ass if I spent the next millennium crying by his grave." Merlin clasps his hands behind his head. He lets out an amused scoff. "I don't know why I'm telling you this," he admits. "It doesn't matter. He's gone. I'm not ever getting him back, and I'll always be…" he sighs, "stuck here." 

Arthur's eyebrows twitch together. He looks away and fixes his gaze on the wall. When he looks back, there's an easy smile on his face and a storm behind his eyes. He reaches up and smacks Merlin's thigh.

"Well, I'm glad you're here. You've grown on me." He shrugs. "A bit like a benign tumor." Merlin laughs. He sinks into the couch and watches Arthur with a sad, wistful little smile.

"You're not too bad yourself, lone ranger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can yell at me all you want it won't make me sorry
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/) :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is 2K WORDS! every time i tried to cut it down i just made it longer 😩. but hey, it's an important one!

They wake with splitting headaches and cotton filled mouths. They were too drunk and lazy to move from the couch the night before. Merlin's neck has an awful crick.

They take one look at each other and in a moment of brilliance stand up, shuffle to the single bed at the back of the RV, fall into it, and don't rise for another three hours. The inside of the RV is climbing into the mid-eighties and they're sweating through their shirts by the time they wake for the day.

Merlin pries his eyes open, rubbing them with the heel of his thumb. Arthur is laying on his stomach next to him, his eyes half lidded and tired, watching him. Merlin is suddenly very aware that he must look like something floating in the Hudson.

"Hey."

"Hey," Arthur answers, his voice so low and lovely, and he takes in a deep, sleepy breath. "What time is it?"

Merlin checks his watch. He twangs, "It's high-noon."

"Stop," is the immediate answer. Merlin laughs and relaxes into the bed. He rolls onto his back. The bed creaks.

"It's a bit late start to the day," Merlin says. "Do you want to…?" he shrugs. Arthur hums.

"I got nowhere important to be," he says. Merlin smiles.

They lay in bed another few hours, talking about anything and everything. Arthur tells stories of his home, a simple life of family dinners and hard work and church on sundays. Merlin speaks of New York and Chicago and even rural Wales, making up what he knows must have changed in the fifty some odd years since he set foot on European soil.

When they do get up they meander about and snack and talk some more. They pay for a second night, have a drink, and return to the RV when the sun is going down.

There's a fire pit and a picnic table next to their RV, and they swipe a couple extra logs from the stack piled up the side of the vehicle and light a campfire. Arthur praises Merlin's ability to spark up a fire without matches. Merlin tries not to laugh.

The sun sets and they relax into a comfortable, easy silence. Arthur sits on an old creaky lawn chair and reads by the light of the christmas lights hanging from the RV awning. Merlin stretches out on the picnic table and watches the stars. Just like everything about Arthur it is almost, but not quite, how things used to be, settling down around a campfire as night falls and enjoying each other's company.

"What are you reading?" Merlin asks the sky.

" _The Hobbit_ ," Arthur answers.

"Read it to me," he says. There's the sound of quickly flipped pages, three times over.

"From the beginning?" Merlin shakes his head.

"Just from where you are." A pause.

"Okay." Arthur sniffs. " _'Go back?' he thought. 'No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!' So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter._ "

He doesn't carry the voices of the characters, or make any silly noises when the story calls for a sound effect. But his voice has a delicate lilt to it when he reads aloud, soothing, like everything is alright with the world and always will be.

Eventually, Arthur drifts off and stops. He whispers, "Are you asleep?"

"No," Merlin says. He lifts himself up onto his elbows and gives Arthur a smile. "You're nice to listen to." Pink blooms over Arthur's cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"Thank you," he says. He takes a polaroid from under his thigh and marks the page with it before he snaps the book closed. Merlin stares at the piece of film stuck out between the pages.

Emboldened by the comfort of the day, he asks, "Who's that a picture of?"

"Hm? Oh, this?" He opens the book again and retrieves the picture. "It's my mom." He gets up with a god awful creak from the chair and sits down at the picnic table. He sets the book face down on the bench. He hands the picture to Merlin. At the bottom there is blue ballpoint writing that reads, _Happiest Day of My Life! '91_

Merlin never knew Ygraine, only ever saw her once before, and that was in a fleeting moment of despair over a thousand years ago. Just from looking at this picture, he feels like he may know her.

She's beaming, baring bright white teeth with her mouth open in a way that suggests the picture was taken in the middle of a laugh. Her blonde hair is tied back in intricate braids, and long locks fall down over her shoulders. She's wearing a wedding dress with lacy sleeves covering her arms. She has one arm looped with a man Merlin can't see past the shoulder and an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers in her hand, and she has a handful of her dress in her other so she doesn't trip.

"She's beautiful," he says. Arthur crosses his arms over the table.

"Yeah, she was." He accepts the picture back when Merlin hands it over. "Ygraine De Bois. Most badass woman on the damn planet, so I'm told."

"You didn't know her?" Arthur shakes his head. He rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Nope." He pops the 'p'. "She died having me."

"That… sucks," he says, at a loss for genuine comfort. Arthur snorts, and smiles.

"Yeah, it does." He slots the picture into the book once more. "She loved to read. I got a huge case of her books back home, but I could only take a few with me. They're all I got now, besides her ring." He raises his hand and flaunts the silver ring with a wiggle of his fingers. There's a sliver of gold overtop, and when Arthur runs his thumb over it, it spins.

Merlin sighs through his nose.

He's loath to part with it. It's the only thing he has left. But it's not his to keep.

"What'd you say her name was?" He asks.

"Ygraine De Bois," he says suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. Merlin presses his lips together and feigns thinking back on something. He sits up.

"I thought that name sounded familiar," he says, and snatches up his keys from the end of the table.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asks, mirth in his tone.

"I, uh, collect shit," Merlin says as he walks to his car, which isn't entirely a lie. Being immortal has its perks, and they come in the form of coins and jewelry from far back eras of history worth thousands. He sells a few whenever he needs money. "I have this, this thing, from--" He clicks his tongue and opens up the trunk. He looks through the boxes inside until he finds what he's looking for. A sigil, round and steel. The center of it depicts a dove in flight. Merlin runs his thumb over it. He slams the trunk back closed and walks to the table.

"What the hell is this?" Arthur asks, when Merlin presses it into his palm. Merlin sits next to Arthur on the table. He leans in close to see the sigil for himself, his entire side pressed up against Arthur's.

"It's a family sigil," he says. "Back in medieval times, a sigil would be used to prove the identity of the member in a royal family. This one," he taps the sigil, "belonged to the De Bois." Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. He traces the edge of the sigil with his thumb.

"You're kiddin' me," he says breathlessly. Merlin shakes his head. "That's… real neat." He inspects it dutifully, flipping it between his fingers and tracing every raise and divot in the metal. When he's satisfied he tries to hand it back to Merlin, but he pushes it back into his hands.

"You keep it," he says.

"Merlin, I can't take this," Arthur says, and tries to hand it over once more. Merlin denies him again. "I mean, this is-- this has to be priceless."

"I want you to have it. To remember your mother by." Arthur closes his fist around the sigil. There's something indescribable in his eyes, like he's looking for something he knows is invisible.

"I-- W-- Gee, Merlin," he says, and scratches the back of his head. "I don't-- ... shit. Thank you." Merlin rests his head in his hand. His eyes trace Arthur's profile, his elegant roman nose and the five o'clock shadow on his chin and his full lips.

"Don't worry about it," he says. Arthur turns his head, and falters when he realizes how impossibly close they are.

"You know," he says softly, his eyes intent on Merlin's mouth, "I told you it felt real important I be out on that road. I think…" His tongue runs over his lower lip. "I think it was 'cause I was meant to find you."

Merlin's breath tightens in his throat.

"Like destiny?" He tries to joke. Arthur sets the sigil on the tabletop.

"Yeah," he answers simply. He turns at the waist, fully facing Merlin. They're so close their noses are almost touching.

Merlin's eyes are wide. His heart is pounding. He wonders if Arthur can hear it.

Merlin tilts his head just barely to the side as if on instinct.

Arthur's hand reaches out and rests on his hip, his thumb pressing against his hip bone.

Their breath mingles in the infinitesimal space between them. Merlin skims a hand over Arthur's shoulder.

What if he's confused his feelings for who Arthur _was_ with who he is now? He hasn't even told Arthur about who Merlin truly is yet, his magic and the countless lives he's lived. What if that changes everything entirely? 

He looks into Arthur's eyes, just as wide as his own, and the questions fall away into insignificance. Everything will be fine. There is nothing more important than the man in front of him.

Go forward. Only thing to do. 

On we go.

Merlin closes the distance.

The first is tentative, a barely present pressure, and then they're pushing and pulling and trying in vain to rid themselves of any space left between. Arthur's lips are warm and forgiving under his own. Merlin lets out a light breath and takes a handful of his shirt, stretching the fabric. Arthur curls his fingers into Merlin's belt loops and drags him impossibly closer. He rests a sturdy hand on the side of Merlin's neck. It's rough from a lifetime of farm work, and his thumb rubs up and down over Merlin's jaw.

His tongue is fruity and sweet from the candies he's been eating all day.

Merlin nips his lower lip. Arthur hums. They share kiss after fervent kiss and Merlin is lost in it, drunk in it.

It's tender and earthy and _real_ and it's nothing like Merlin hoped for, it's nothing like he dreamed, but as he buries his hand in Arthur's hair he knows there's nothing he could ever want more than this.

Loud crackling is what draws them apart, breathing heavily and dazed. Merlin presses his lips together and blinks slowly. Arthur's lips are swollen and red when he drags his teeth over them.

Over Arthur's shoulder, their fire blazes brighter than ever. Sparks shoot from the flames, drawing shapes of flowers and butterflies and dragons. The christmas lights on their RV flicker. Arthur looks about and glances to Merlin, a retort on his lips that dies when he sees his eyes.

"Merlin…"

Merlin can't help the laugh that bubbles from deep in his chest.

"Magic," he says, and Arthur's jaw slackens. "I have magic."

There are a lot of things he expects, disgust or anger or fear. Instead Arthur joins his laughter, wheezing and incredulous.

"You really were cheating," he says. Merlin tries his damndest to ward of a smile.

"Only at darts," he says.

"'Only at darts,' you are so damn--" He leans forward and kisses Merlin again, and Merlin relaxes into his touch. He slips his hand just under the hem of Merlin's shirt, squeezing his side. He bumps their foreheads together. "Do you wanna take this inside?"

" _Yes_ ," Merlin says, already rising and bringing Arthur with him. Arthur laughs that bright, liquid sunshine laugh, and they run inside and lock the door.

Sometime later, all the lights in the RV both inside and out flicker madly in time with a crescendo of moans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaayyyyyy they finally kissed! i'm so brain dead today i tried to post this without putting any of the fucking chapter text in 😩😩 it's been a long ass day y'all
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy cow, the last chapter before the epilogue! i want to thank everyone for going on this journey with me and supporting me at every step. this wouldn't even exist without y'all asking for it, and therein is a gratitude i cannot name that this silly little 700 word drabble got into your hearts and that you wanted more. everyone that commented, bookmarked, left kudos, or just silently read along gets my deepest love. thank you so much for seeing this through with me.
> 
> okay, sappy ranting over. read on!

The rest of their trip is a mess of driving and fooling around and fooling around and driving. It only stands to reason that Arthur would be a big fat tease, and more than once Merlin is veering the car off the side of the road and their headlights flicker and the radio goes haywire. They fall into bed together at night and hold each other in the day and laugh and kiss and shove each other around. It's a bliss he can't ever remember having, not even when Arthur was… well, it doesn't matter.

A few miles before they reach Tucson, Arthur bends his card in half until it breaks as he exits a gas station. At Merlin's inquisitive look he shrugs and tosses the plastic into the trash can beside the gas pump.

"Fuck him," Merlin says, and Arthur laughs as he reaches out to take Merlin's hand.

"Yeah," he agrees, letting Merlin pull him close to his side, "fuck him."

They reach San Diego the next day. Arthur's wide eyed wonder at seeing a city so large rubs off, and Merlin can't help but humor him when he raves over how many _cars_ and how many _people_ and how many _stores_ there are, and _hot damn, Merlin, you seein' how big that building is? Tallest thing I ever seen in my damn life!_

It makes the traffic bearable, in the least.

They get tacos at a food truck and pull up to a parking lot that overlooks the ocean. The asphalt stops where the sandy beach starts. The air is crisp and thick with sea salt when they step out of the car, and the pavement bakes them through their shoes. Arthur takes his cap off and fixes it on Merlin's head when he complains about the sun over his dark hair. Merlin presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth in thanks.

They sit on the hood of Merlin's car and watch the waves roll in. The roar and crash of water is mesmerizing and the sun is warm on their skin. It relaxes Merlin to the bone, makes him feel at ease in his body. Something like being exactly where you're supposed to be with exactly who you're supposed to be with.

"What do you think, then? Just a bunch of water?"

Arthur squeezes a wedge of lime over his taco and looks out over the clear blue sky.

"Just about, yeah," he says. "Sand, water, sky," he feigns nonchalance with a shrug, "it's just a big lake, my friend." He takes a bite from his taco as Merlin scoffs.

"Oh, shut up, you're impressed. You're just too much of an ass to admit it." Arthur laughs through his nose, pressing his fist to his mouth to keep his food in. He swallows and takes a sip from the Arnold Palmer they're sharing. He runs his tongue over his teeth.

"I guess it ain't half bad. I could do without them damn birds, though," he says. Merlin leans back on the windshield and watches the seagulls fly overhead.

"I like them," he says.

"They're annoying."

"I like you," he repeats, and slides his gaze over to Arthur to find him grinning wide. He answers with an easy smile of his own. Arthur reaches over and tugs his cap down over his eyes. Arthur sets his paper plate on the hood between them and jumps off the car and onto the pavement.

"Alright, get on up," he says, and waves his hand upwards before he pulls his shirt off.

"We're not doing that out here," Merlin says through a laugh. Arthur throws his shirt at his face.

"You came all this way," he says, and unbuttons his pants, "you're going for a swim." Merlin wads up Arthur's shirt in his lap.

"A swim-- Arthur, we just ate!"

"That's a myth!" He says, and toes off his shoes before he shucks his jeans off to leave himself in his boxer briefs. Merlin openly admires him, his eyes skimming over his thighs and chest and shoulders. "Come on now, I don't got all day." He claps his hands in an uptempo rhythm to hurry Merlin along. Merlin gives a long groan as he sits up, and laughs when Arthur throws his jeans at him for it. He takes the back of his shirt collar and tugs it over his head.

"You're so bossy," Merlin grumbles, as Arthur continues to rush him.

"Maybe I was a king in a past life or something," he says, deadpan and unaware, squinting at the shore. Merlin trips over himself getting his jeans off.

"You _what?_ " Arthur laughs.

"I don't know, Merlin, I'm just bullshittin' around." Merlin opens the driver side door of his car to toss the hat, and the rest of their clothes, inside. Arthur is already taking off for the water. He hollers and swears as the sand scalds his feet.

"Arthur! What about your--? Oh, hell, whatever." Merlin stretches across the hood and grabs the last taco on Arthur's plate. He tosses the plate in a garbage can as he passes, and eats the taco in three bites as he runs across the sand. "Be careful of the riptide!" He yells, though Arthur is already knee deep in the water and pointedly not listening, if the waved arm in his direction is any indicator.

When Arthur is up to his waist he stops and turns, facing Merlin as he waits for him to catch up. His smile is a carbon copy of his mother's. Fondness hangs heavy in Merlin's heart, rich like sweet cream.

"See, it ain't so scary," Arthur teases as Merlin gains on him. Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur's waist and laces his fingers together. Arthur trails his hands up Merlin's forearms to his biceps.

"You're not supposed to do anything strenuous after eating," Merlin says. He lets the waves sway them back and forth. Arthur takes him by the chin and guides him down to a sweet, chaste kiss that Merlin smiles into.

"Then you'll be fine," he says against his lips, "I never knew you to do _anything_ strenuous." Merlin pulls away, his eyes narrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know exactly what I mean," he says, a devilish grin rising on his face. Merlin lets out an affronted little _huh!_

"I have it on good authority I'm _exceptional_ at strenuous activity," he says, and he can cite those sources. Discounting Arthur's own jerk ass, a thousand years left plenty of time to rack up a sizeable body count. Merlin's done things Arthur has likely never even heard of. 

Arthur shrugs, unable to tamp down his smile for his stupid little joke.

"Whatever you say, Merlin--" 

He lets out a yelp as Merlin uses his magic to push him backward into the water. A wave crashes over them both, sending a cackling Merlin back a couple steps. Merlin's eyebrows furrow as thunder claps overhead. He shields his eyes to look up at the sky, but finds it cloudless and bright.

Arthur bursts up from the water, gasping for breath. Merlin is rolling his eyes and holding out his arm before Arthur ever grabs onto him for balance.

"You're such a--" Merlin stops when he sees the state Arthur is in. He's pale and breathless, his eyebrows drawn together as he looks off at something that isn't there. His throat constricts like he's trying not to puke. "Well, now," Merlin says, lacking in sympathy and gullibility, "what did I say?" 

Arthur looks up at him, and his eyes go wide and razor focused. Merlin's lips twitch.

"Merlin," he says, a choked little sound, as he looks between Merlin's eyes with a confused, off-kilter kind of recognition. Arthur reaches up and puts his hand to the back of his neck, sliding up to the back of his head. His fingers curl in Merlin's hair, wet and dragging.

Then he pulls him down for a crushing kiss, messy and desperate and _afraid_ , almost, like it's the last thing Arthur will ever do.

Like it's goodbye.

Merlin's lungs shrink up to the size of quarters. He separates them with a gentle hand on Arthur's chest.

"Arthur?" He asks around the tightness in his throat. His touch is tentative when he cups Arthur's jaw. Arthur rests his hand over Merlin's wrist. He draws in a shaky breath. Merlin is going to beat Arthur within an inch of his life if this is a joke. "Are you… what's going on?"

"Was that real?" He asks, quieter than a pin drop. "What I just-- Merlin, I saw-- Were-- _Are_ you…?"

Merlin's eyes ache, and his vision swims, and he tries so, so hard not to hyperventilate. He can't get the words out, and settles for a halting nod and a mouthed _yeah_.

Arthur cards his fingers through Merlin's hair, unable to tear his eyes away from him. He watches him with an amazed kind of intrigue, as if he's seeing him for the first time in a new light. 

"You're older than the english language and you're fucking a twenty-five year old?" Arthur breaks the silence, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

There's a beat where Merlin stares, dumbstruck and teary eyed, before he bursts into laughter. 

"Twenty-five? Arthur, there's no way you're younger than forty," he says, a wobbly smile plastered over his face. He leans forward and brings their foreheads together, and Arthur tilts his head up to touch his nose to Merlin's.

"Fucking insufferable, I wish I never met your dumb ass," he says, smiling wide. An innermost part of Merlin that's swallowed up by shock is delighted that his country twang is still wrapped around every word.

"Likewise," Merlin says softly. 

Merlin draws him into a hug, tucking his chin over Arthur's shoulder. Arthur holds him tight, squeezing so hard Merlin can barely breathe, kissing the junction of his neck and shoulder over and over again.

And they do not move for a very, very long time.

_Take me down to the seaside, baby_  
_Take me down to the seaside, baby_  
_In a jeep that's neat_  
_In a jeep that's sweet_  
_Take me down to the country, honey_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it!! i've had this planned since the beginning lmao but i still hope it lived up to expectations. all we have is the epilogue left and then this fic is over! can you believe it??
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/)


	10. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here's a playlist i made for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1x4PmQYJwi7G54i6fAnJBL?si=4-FK_tMETaGHxRHrNoCjbA) because why not
> 
> warning for some brief descriptions of battle

In the end, he takes it surprisingly well.

There are a lot of things still to understand, a lot of things that were left unsaid before. Arthur wasn't entirely coherent in that last leg of his life, what with the piece of sword travelling into his heart and the agony, so there are some pieces missing and repeated questions.

They haven't even gotten to what Merlin has been up to in the past thousand years. _Raising cain, I bet,_ Arthur says, and he isn't exactly wrong.

The memories themselves are the hardest to wrap his head around. They come in gradually, in waves or sharp aches. He describes it somewhere between watching someone else's life through their eyes and being hit with a sudden childhood memory with absolute nostalgic clarity.

There are good memories, of laughter and kindness and love, and he hasn't yet tired of discussing their old friends. He speaks of Mordred highly, and with all his new knowledge blames not Mordred but Arthur - he never refers to that first incarnation as his own person, saying _Arthur_ and _him_ and _he_ and never _me_ or _myself_ or _I_ \- for his betrayal. There's a depth of melancholy that flashes behind his eyes when Gwen is mentioned, bittersweet and sometimes guilty when those eyes are on Merlin. 

But there are bad memories, too. There was betrayal, and paranoia, and incalculable bloodshed. Those are the worst, when he remembers fields of bodies and the stench of blood baking in the noonday sun and gore making his hand slip on the hilt of his sword. Merlin sits with him on the bathroom floor, his hand rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades, as he kneels before the toilet and heaves and trembles.

And he apologizes. He apologizes a lot.

For how Merlin was treated, for the ban on magic lasting so long, for that first Arthur not thinking of him with the respect he deserved until the very end. He kisses his eyelids and his cheeks and his giggling lips as he promises to never hold him in anything but the highest regard.

His own death was the first thing he remembered, out among the waves. He recalls pain and delirium but love, too. The deep, aching, longing kind, and his brush with his own mortality mixed with a newfound sense of _at last_ means they spend a lot of time in bed. And on various furniture. And on the floor. The list goes on.

"What happened to them?" Arthur asks, laying on his back on a plush queen bed. The white linens have been kicked to the end of the mattress, draped halfway onto the floor and forgotten. Merlin props his head up on his hand, his other occupied with tracing patterns over Arthur's chest.

"Everyone from Camelot?" Merlin asks back, and Arthur nods. His fingers dip down his sternum, across his ribs, and back up again. "It was terrible, for a little while, but we got along in the end. Gwen lifted the ban on magic, so I got a pretty killer promotion." It wasn't a bad gig, being court sorcerer. He spent most of his days rebuilding what the purge took away, experimenting with magic, and writing spells and potions until his hand was sore. He cured magical maladies and taught the people how to not be so afraid of the creatures that howled in the darkling woods. He even got his own chambers, and a fresh set of clothing. Gwen insisted on tailoring the outfit he wore for the official ceremony. Something of a throwback to celebrate their old lives as servants, and their rebirths as nobility. "Gaius lived to a happy ninety seven and died in his sleep. Percival ended up becoming first knight." Arthur raises an eyebrow. 

"What happened to Leon?" Merlin clears his throat and looks away. He doesn't know who he's guilty on behalf of. It was centuries ago, it shouldn't matter anymore.

"He became king," he says. Arthur makes an incredulous noise.

" _Leon?_ With Gwen?" 

"They were respectful about it," he assures, because nothing about Leon could ever be disrespectful. 

It only made sense they'd get together eventually. They were childhood friends, and Leon was Gwen's advisor after Arthur's death. They mourned together, had almost every meal together, spent long nights in the throne room arguing over treaties and laws together. They went to each other on every decision big and small. Their partnership was a strong one long before Gwen crept into Leon's chambers by moonlight and presented him with a bouquet of fresh clipped roses.

"It ain't that," he says. "I just thought--" he cuts himself off with a laugh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Confused amusement settles into Merlin's features.

"You thought what?" He asks. 

"It was stupid."

"Your thoughts often are," he says, and Arthur gives him a hateful side eye. Merlin shoves him. "Tell me." Arthur rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to stroke his thumb over Merlin's cheekbone.

"I had it in my mind that if he weren't around, Gwen would marry you."

" _What?_ " It wasn't _too_ off base. He loved Gwen, fully and truly, and there were times when he thought their playful flirting could lead to something more. But Arthur was a horribly arrogant wrench in those gears for both of them. By the time Arthur was well and truly gone, in presence and consideration, they were too up to their ears in work with running the kingdom and keeping the kingdom in one piece, respectively, to reclaim what they once had.

"I told you, it was stupid." Merlin shifts so he can hover over Arthur, a smug smile stretching across his face.

"Was he jealous?" He asks. Arthur glares but takes him by the hips and pulls him closer, his legs falling open so Merlin can fit more comfortably between them. Merlin keeps himself propped up with his elbows on either side of Arthur's head.

"No."

"Oh my god, he was. This is so rich," he says, reveling in the feeling of _King Arthur_ being jealous of his own servant. "Was it that sexy kind of jealous where he was secretly attracted to me? I bet it was." He makes a victorious little groan. "He wanted me so bad."

"Merlin," he says, voice level and stern. Merlin, not remotely sheepish, dips his head and bumps their noses together.

"Shut up?"

Arthur hums and catches Merlin's lips in a kiss, easy and slow. They both let out light breaths when Merlin presses his hips down.

"You guessed it," he says.

_I couldn't utter my love when it counted_  
_Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now_  
_I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted_  
_Ah, but I'm singing like a bird, 'bout it now_

_Words hung above, but never would form_  
_Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn_  
_Remember me love when I'm reborn_  
_As a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god. there it is. the end. i know this was just updating for a little over a week at 11k and this wasn't one of those 6 month, 200k monsters, but this was the first multichap i've ever finished! i was super excited to see it done and i know i already gushed but jeez guys y'all just made me so happy with your support. thank you so much for sticking it out with me. i love you!
> 
> i'm writing new fics all the time, mostly one shots and drabbles, and if you wanna say hi or yell at me or whatever (which i would love) you can find me on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylan.tumblr.com/)


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